


Splatter

by nekotachis



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Gaping, Dom/sub, M/M, No Sex, Not Beta'd, Public Use, Short One Shot, Watersports, human urinal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekotachis/pseuds/nekotachis
Summary: "They picked a club that was lax with rules but familiar enough to them. Sylvain had it all planned out - in the men’s bathroom there was a pipe at the far end of the urinals. Dimitri would set him up there, chain him by his leather collar to the wall on a short leash."Short one-shot where Sylvain gets publicly used as a toilet.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Splatter

They picked a club that was lax with rules but familiar enough to them. Sylvain had it all planned out - in the men’s bathroom there was a pipe at the far end of the urinals. Dimitri would set him up there, chain him by his leather collar to the wall on a short leash. Of course there would be some sort of signage - “Use me”, “Free”, the possibilities were endless. When they were all set up, Dimitri would leave, spending the evening with friends, nursing drinks quietly in the corner as he was wont to do. When Dimitri was ready, he’d pay Sylvain a visit.

Despite all the prior preparation, Dimitri still fidgeted nervously with his drink. He checked his watch, his phone, his watch again as Claude and Felix argued over the loud music. With so much pressure on him, it was hard to decide what “ready” felt like. He had a couple of beers, but certainly he could have a few more. The seat was sticky as he shifted, sorting out how his body felt as he moved and rocked.

“You ok there?” Claude said. They were both staring at Dimitri, and he flushed. 

“Yes, sorry.” 

“If you’re so anxious, just go check on him.” Felix piped up, always the pragmatist. 

“I went in there earlier, you know.” Claude said, smirking. “I saw a few guys having a good time with him. He looks popular tonight.”

Dimitri didn’t like to accept he was a possessive man, but a sharp prick of jealousy flared inside of him. He knew the rules of the game, consented to Sylvain being used by strangers, but their friend acknowledging it felt too close to home. 

Dimitri shot up from his seat, shaking the table. If he wasn’t ready now, he’d never be.

“I’ll be back shortly.” Dimitri said. Claude laughed and Felix drained his glass.

The bathroom was empty when Dimitri peeked in. The fans made an eerie hum, the overhead lights dull and washed out. There was no lock on the door, and Dimitri watched as it silently slid shut behind him. He couldn’t ignore the anxiety pooling in his fingers and toes. What if they got caught, or Goddess forbid, someone _saw him_?

Sylvain was on all fours, facing against the wall with his head bowed. He looked exhausted, like a horse run ragged, his back hunched and his hands fisted. The pants he wore coming in were gone with no sign of them in sight. When Dimitri walked towards him - softly, quietly, like approaching a wary animal - Sylvain stiffened at the sound.

“It’s me.” Dimitri said soothingly. Sylvain panted, silent. Dimitri wanted to kneel next to him, brush his hair out of his eyes, but he didn’t want to ruin the game. 

Someone had taken out a marker, scrawling in big sloppy letters “WORST FUCK” across Sylvain’s lower back. The ink was running, bleeding into the tiny cracks of his skin. He smelled like piss and cum and beer, his hair soaked. Dimitri’s hand hovered over him, his guts tied up with rage and primal, filthy jealousy.

Dimitri rounded Sylvain, leering at him from behind. Sylvain’s hole was wide and gaping, a silicone plug shaped more like a tunnel than a stopper keeping him open. His insides were red and moist, and he clenched helplessly as cum and piss dripped onto the floor from his asshole. His balls were pink and splotchy, his cock rising pathetically to attention. This is what Sylvain was waiting for.

Dimitri sneered. “You’re disgusting.”

Sylvain was silent save for the sound of his ragged breaths.

“You make me sick.” 

Dimitri watched Sylvain swallow, how the movement made his shoulders shift, his abdomen tense. Even the inside of his hole squeezed, and Dimitri watched with disgust as a dribble of cum was forced out.

“I bet everyone in this bar used you, and you liked it.”

The humming of the fans seemed louder as Dimitri’s possessiveness built. He toed at Sylvain’s balls with the tip of his boot, watching them roll and squish with a sick satisfaction. When he pulled away, a wet spot was left behind. _Repulsive_.

“I’d ask you to answer me, but I understand that toilets don’t talk back.” Dimitri rasped, his voice grating like metal on metal. “I can’t even fuck you like this. I wouldn’t put my hands on such a dirty thing.”

Dimitri lifted his boot, planting it on Sylvain’s ass. Gently, he pushed, and Sylvain rocked forward slightly, his head bumping against the disgusting floor. “How am I ever going to kiss you again? Your mouth is filthy.” 

Sylvain shifted to widen his legs and Dimitri shifted forward, leaning over to rest his elbow on top of his raised knee and holding his chin in his hand. Like this, Sylvain was a step stool, his back quivering under the weight of Dimitri’s body.

“What shall I do with you, Sylvain? I can’t take you home like this. You’re barely even mine anymore.” 

One of Sylvain’s shoulders gave out, and he sprawled forward with a gasp, the sound of teeth hitting ceramic tile. Dimitri let up, and Sylvain righted himself, trembling.

“It seems you have a use here. Shall I leave you?”

Sylvain shook his head. Droplets of liquid sprayed off and covered Dimitri’s boot. They would have to burn them when they got home.

“No? Well, I should remind you who owns you before you’re let back into my home then, dearest thing.”

Dimitri stepped down, but Sylvain didn’t seem to relax. His fingers felt numb as he fumbled for the button and zipper on his pants. His cock was soft still as he pulled it out. This was all the pre-game, the prologue; later, after Sylvain was cleaned and scrubbed and cleaned again, Dimitri would take him rough and fast. It would be a reminder of who owned who, that Sylvain had experienced many people but the only person who had him would always be Dimitri. 

He angled his cock, taking a deep breath. He could do it. This is what Sylvain wanted. It’s what _Dimitri_ wanted. 

Sylvain’s thumb cracked under the tight squeeze of his fist. 

“How dare you be impatient.” Dimitri growled, pushing against his thigh with his boot. Sylvain stilled once again, huffing.

Dimitri went back to concentrating. Now that he was aware of what he had to do, the pressure in his belly was intense. All the beers and water had really added up.

When the first stream of piss hit Sylvain, it missed his hole, splattering across his crack. Dimitri readjusted, this time hitting his mark. He watched with trepidation as Sylvain clenched helplessly, then relaxed, then clenched again. Dimitri’s urine filled Sylvain’s gaping hole, spilling over to stream down between his legs. Sylvain was whining quietly, barely audible over the humming of the fans. 

Dimitri shook himself clean before tucking himself back in silently. He assessed the damage with a sick sense of satisfaction. His urine was indistinguishable from all the other fluids that covered Sylvain, but the smell of Dimitri’s piss was overpowering.

“You can let that soak in for a bit. I’ll be back later to collect you.”

At the door, Dimitri turned back around. Sylvain was still face down, in the same position as before. It was like nothing had happened. Guilt creeped in like weeds before Dimitri hacked them down. 

“Oh, and Sylvain? Make sure nobody else gets to use you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nekotachis). I like the pee.


End file.
